


Don't Think Twice

by prompt_fills



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Magical Realism, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15537168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/pseuds/prompt_fills
Summary: Five times James doesn’t see the creatures around him and one time he doesn’t mind.





	Don't Think Twice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheFlirtMeister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlirtMeister/gifts).



> I’m sorry about the mix up, the full story is up now. Hope you enjoy. :)

      
I.

    4:57 am  
Saturday, 3 August 1974  
Nürburngring, Germany  


It’s a soft whine first.

Then it’s a bit of rustling, followed by the sound of four paws with blunt claws hitting the floor and trotting to the door.

Another whine, this time loud enough to wake up the man sleeping on the bed.

“Oscar?” The man calls out, voice rough from sleep.

A long whine.

The man looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s late. Or early. He doesn’t want to be up either way. “Get back to bed.”

The dog refuses, whimpering by the door.

“Come here, boy.”

Instead of obeying, the dog paws at the door.

The man sits up and switches on the bedside lamp that casts a soft yellow light across the hotel room. Nothing appears to be out of place.

His luggage is on the table, opened and unpacked. He can see the crossbow case, too. No one has touched it. The clothes he’s going to wear in the morning hang over the chair and underneath it is a heap of clothes from the day before.

By the door, the dog pauses its scratching and watches the man intently.

The window is creaked open just a bit, the curtains move with the mild draught. Outside, the sky is dark and the outline of the forest is even darker. The moon is full and bright. On top of a hill, the ruins of the Nürburg Castle.

There’s a movement to his left and the man swivels around, heart rate quickening. Alarmed, he almost shouts out a command to the dog but he catches himself just in time. There is no reason to worry. It’s just a framed picture on the wall, its glazing reflecting the shapes of the room as if it were a mirror.

He is staring at his own reflection. He doesn’t recognize himself. His hair is getting too long, nearly brushing his shoulders. He raises his hand to comb through the dishevelled nest and the reflection raises its hand in tandem. He waves his hand, waggling his fingers. The reflection waves back.

The man lets out a low chuckle at his own overactive imagination. 

The dog whines again, drawing its master’s attention back to itself.

“You want to go for a walk? Now?”

At the magic word, the dog bounds over, putting its muzzle on the man’s lap in excitement, paws dancing on the floor. The man smiles and offers the dog head scratches to which the dog responds in kind, wiggling in anticipation and scooting closer. It raises up its head and holds it still so the man could put the collar around the dog’s neck and clip on the leash. The man does no such thing and the dog gets restless again, grabbing the hem of the man’s shirt and giving it a firm tug. The fabric stretches, several threads snapping audibly.

“C’mon, Oscar. Be reasonable, let’s get some sleep,” the man tries again, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

Instead of climbing into the bed and settling for the night, the dog paddles back to the door. It jumps a bit to brace its front paws against it and tries nosing at the door handle. The dog is large enough to reach it but the door is locked and doesn’t budge.

The dog’s intent is clear. It wants out. Now.

“Always so stubborn,” the man mutters to himself as he gets up from the bed and walks to the table. He searches his luggage for a moment before pulling out a jacket that he shrugs on. His Zippo is in one pocket, a pack of cigarettes in the other. He shakes one out, puts it between his lips, then clicks the Zippo open, eyes zeroing on the flame to bring it closer to his face. He takes a first drag, then closes his eyes. He is tired.

The dog whines, impatient.

“All right, all right. Come here,” the man says, the cigarette between his lips. He puts the collar snugly around the dog’s neck but he doesn’t bother with the leash. With one quick glance at the sky, he checks the quarrels and takes the crossbow with him instead, slinging it over his shoulder.

The key turns in the lock reluctantly, the hinges protest even more loudly. The man grimaces but the dog darts past his legs the moment the gap is wide enough.

The man follows with hurried steps and muttered curses.

He doesn’t remember to switch the light off but it doesn’t matter because the moment the door falls shut, a thin shadow resembling a bony hand appears out of nowhere and reaches out for the switch to cast the room into comfortable darkness once again.

The grey spectre moves to the window, watching the dog run into the forest, just quick enough that the man can keep up.

_Oscar comes to a halt abruptly, waits for James to catch up. “Bloody hell, what was that about, you beast?” He ruffles his Alsatian’s fur, patting his chest, scratching behind his ears. Oscar lolls his tongue out, looking pleased with himself._

_“James?”_

_James swivels around, one quarrel in the groove, the string drawn back, his crossbow raised. He blinks into the darkened path leading deeper into the forest. He doesn’t see much beyond the bend where is a dark figure he wouldn’t recognize if it didn’t speak to him._

_“Niki? What are you doing up so late?”_

_Oscar rushes off to give Niki a warm welcome. The man makes a jerky motion, patting the dog on its head twice before pulling his hand back. Oscar doesn’t seem to mind, lust lays down and stares up at Niki in adoration. James can’t say he blames the dog._

_“I could ask you the same question. And put that thing away before you hurt someone.”_

_James props the crossbow over his shoulder but he doesn’t relax. “Oscar insisted he needed a walk.”_

_Niki looks down at the dog, thoughtful. If he wants to add something James never learns because the night is pierced by a howl that sends shivers down James’ spine._

_“I think we should both get back.”_

_Niki shrugs. “It’s just Roggenwölfe. There are plenty of them around.”_

_“A wolf?” James looks around them, they aren’t that far into the forest and he can still tell where the lights from the town are coming from between the trees but the thought that in the opposite direction, the forest stretches for miles makes his breath come short._

_“Yes. It’s the full moon tonight.”_

_James turns to Niki to make some Little Red Riding Hood joke but Niki is nowhere to be found._

_Oscar lets out a disappointed whine._

When the man returns to the room, he doesn’t find anything amiss but the dog pauses over the threshold, growling softly.

The man encourages the dog to come inside and the dog hesitantly does so.

The man never notices the grey shadow lingering around the room but the dog knows and it doesn’t sleep all night, keeping an eye out for anything that might threaten his master.

The man sleeps soundly, the warnings aren’t meant for him.  


    

    II.

    7:41 pm  
Saturday, 3 August 1974  
Nürburngring, Germany  


The door to the hotel room bangs open and the shadow quickly melts into nothing against the wall.

“…waiting for your gearbox to fuck you over ten laps before the end? Or maybe waiting for the engine to go up in flames like it did in Sweden?” The man takes a long drag. His hands are shaking.

“I don’t remember _you_ winning any races this year, Hunt.”

“So far,” the man says briskly before crushing the butt of the cigarette on the window sill.

“You can dream.”

“Dreaming instead of living, that’s your shtick, Niki.”

The shadow simmers, restless.

The younger man’s eyes snap up and for a moment, the man stares right at the shadow and it stares back at him. The man doesn’t say anything. He knows the sign is not meant for him and he lets out a relieved sigh.

The shadow stretches and slithers from the wall down to hide under the bed where the darkness is deeper. The man tracks the movement with his eyes but he never says anything.

“While you have your string of girls to keep you alive.”

“If you can name one–”

“Claudia Arena, Beatrice Vogler, Marie Ekorre, Nancy Sebastian, Brande Howard–”

The man cards his hand through his hair, sits on the bed, lights up another cigarette. “What are you? Jealous?”

The man scoffs, approaching the bed.

The shadow startles at that, making the lights flicker on and off.

“What the fuck was that?”

The other man waves him off with a flick of his hand. “It’s like Erdhenne.”

The shadow flinches and crouches even lower into the dark corner. The man can still tell exactly where it is.

“The fuck is that?”

“A house spirit.”

“Oh. Is it a bad thing?”

“It means someone will die, soon. Depends on how long have you been seeing it.”

The first man bends over the edge of the bed and peers into the darkness, eyes unseeing to all the things that surround him. He doesn’t see the spirit just like he doesn’t see the other creature for what it is. “Die?”

“Not you,” the other man assures.

The man glances up, the cigarette still between his lips.

At the expression, the younger man adds, “Not me.”

“But… someone?”

The man nods. “You can’t do anything about it. Just be prepared.”

The first man finishes the cigarette and lights up another one. “Shit.”  


    

    III.

    5:08 pm  
Sunday, 4 August 1974  
Nürburngring, Germany  


The man pulls the door open the moment he hears the sound of knuckles rapping on the wood.

The spirit peers over his shoulder into the hallway and then abruptly slinks back when he notices who the newcomer is.

“What’s with you and this place, Niki?”

“…Nothing.” When the man closes his eyes he can see the memories so vividly the spirit senses it as well.

_Two years ago. The oil from the man’s March started leaking all over the track in lap five._

_Last year. The suspension broke in the second lap and he broke his wrist going out in Kesselchen. He can still smell the stench of the hospital he was taken to._

_The circuit wants to feel his pain. He’ll never win here._

“Just admit it, you hate this track.”

“I won the pole.”

“A few clouds here and there and you go spinning off the track like it’s the first time you’re driving.”

_Today has been a mess, too. The man had great speed but then came the fucked up start and he lost the lead in the very first corner. He tried to go after Jody Scheckter next but that just blew up in his face, he knew it was a mistake the moment he took the inside line but there was no room to fix it, not in Nordkehre. He hit the barrier and could be glad to get out with no broken bones._

“You went out in lap ten,” the younger man says.

“Gearbox,” the first man shrugs, patting his pockets in search for a smoke.

“I didn’t come here to talk about the race.”

A wry smile. “I know you didn’t.”  


    

    IV.

    11:23 pm  
Sunday, 4 August 1974  
Nürburngring, Germany  


The spirit watches the two men lying on the bed. It wants to get closer, feed on the energy. The room is crackling with it, it’s strong and reckless and the spirit wants to absorb it all.

The younger man glances up and holds the shadow’s gaze for so long that the spirit is sure that if it were possible, the man would lock him up in the bathroom just like he locked away the dog.

The younger man feeds on the energy all by himself and by the pointed looks he sends into the shadowed corners of the room, he knows all too well what he’s doing. His partner, however, remains oblivious.

“You’re distracted.”

“Go to sleep, James.”

“I can’t, your thoughts are too loud.”

The dog scratches at the bathroom door, whines, then barks.

“You should let him in.”

“He’ll take the bed.”

“I can live with that.”

The first man gets up from the bed with a sigh, opens the door for the dog. Just as he said, the dog takes a nosedive for the bed. The younger man makes the dog settle at a comfortable distance while making it look like he is petting it. The dog rolls over to his master’s side of the bed and doesn’t budge an inch, not even when his owner comes back and tries to nudge him away.

The younger man laughs at them. “He owns you.”

“Some help you are.”

With a sigh and two fingers poking sharply into the side of the dog’s neck, the man helps. The dog settles at their feet. It looks tired but it takes some time for it to fall asleep. Unlike its master, it can sense the spirit. Unlike the other creature, it can’t see the spirit directly.

The first man falls asleep, followed by his dog some time after.

The other man, the creature disguising itself as a man, doesn’t need to sleep tonight. The moon isn’t full anymore but it is still strong and bright on the sky outside.

The spirit watches him, thoughtful.  


    

    V.

    5:19 am  
Monday, 5 August 1974  
Nürburngring, Germany  


The spectre inches closer to the man, keeping its bony hand on the wall, slipping through the shadows.

_One day, you’ll take too much and drain him._

“I won’t,” the younger man replies, confident. He doesn’t startle at the sound of the spirit’s voice.

Outside of the hotel, a lone street lamp flickers but it stays lit. The spirit composes itself. _One day, you will. You’ll kill him._

“If his habits and lifestyle won’t get to him first, you mean.”

 _Maybe you’ll be the first to go,_ the spirit hisses, annoyed.

“You’re not here for me. Or for him. Let us be,” the man whispers into the darkness, although he must know the spirit can’t leave them. It can’t resist them.

Maybe he knows it will be two more months before the spirit’s final appearance. Two months are a long time to keep meeting. Two months aren’t much time left to live.

 _I’m not here for you,_ the spectre allows. The man already knows this, anyway.

Long minutes pass in silence and the younger man watches the skyline grow lighter. He tries ignoring the spirit.

Out of the window, the silent walls of the castle keep watching him. They want him gone.

The man shivers.

The castle has been guarded strongly against creatures like him. It might not have saved the walls from crumbling down over the course of centuries but the protection from everything dark is still holding strong.

 _You’ll never win here,_ the spirit tells him. It’s not a threat. It’s a fact.

“He might, though,” the man says, pointing with his chin to his sleeping companion.

_If you don’t kill him first._

“I won’t,” the man sighs, weary of the argument he’s been having on and off with the spectre.

The spectre silently melts into the last shadows of the night.  


    

    VI.

    9:34 am  
Monday, 5 August 1974  
Nürburngring, Germany  


_James is reluctant to let him go._

_“I have a meeting,” Niki says, breaking their kiss. He looks at the alarm clock at James’ night stand. “Four minutes ago. Shit.”_

_Niki makes to run out of the door and James catches him by his waist. Niki stumbles into the table, sending James’ luggage flying. James curses when it spills on the floor._

_Niki sees the casing. Knows the shape. Knows the heads of the quarrels will be pure silver. They usually try not to talk about it._

_“It’s a family thing,” James says, kicking the casing under the bed, out of sight._

_There is no way James doesn’t know._

_“Why didn’t you take me down when you first saw me?”_

_“You’re not a werewolf.”_

_James doesn’t make it sound like a question but Niki still shakes his head no in answer._

_“And you don’t drink blood so you’re not a vampire either.”_

_Niki shakes his head again._

_“So, technically, I’m following the rules.”_

_“Your family… they don’t know about my kind? Don’t have any rules in place?”_

_“If they made rules against their son dating a Nachzehrer then I feel obliged to ignore them all.”_

_Niki smiles but it’s a short lived smile. “You realize I’m feeding on your life energy, right?”_

_“Still technically not a vampire. And it keeps you alive, right?”_

_“Right.”_

_James scratches the side of his nose. He gets out a cigarette out of somewhere, lights it up, then keeps playing with his Zippo. “What time is your flight?”_

_Niki chances a glance out of the window of James’ hotel room. He catches the reflection in the glass that abruptly disappears from sight._

_“Meet me at mine,” Niki says. They have two weeks before they’ll be needed at Knittelfield. “I’ll be there in forty minutes.”_

_“I’ll wait for you,” James smiles and although Niki is already running late, he lets James pull him in for one more kiss._

_He doesn’t need to feed. But he needs this all the same._


End file.
